Dreadlords Applied Martial Spellcraft 301

[Maseno Luana]

The air filled with a cloud of sand, Maseno's eyes narrowed as he calmly peered out for any sign of movement from his opponent. Given her prior approaches, he was expecting a charge but what he wasn't expecting was her speed. Vasha moved impressively fast for something her size. The feint with her sword did indeed draw his attention and he swung his swordstaff down to meet it - then felt the wind knocked out of him.

Vasha's tail impacted with his left side, and while his reinforced leather armor took most of the blunt force, he felt the sting of her sharpened scales as they sliced through it. Not to mention she'd cleanly knocked him off his feet and sent him tumbling to the side.

Maseno was quick to right himself with a kick-flip back to his feet, but the Initiate winced at the deep gouges to his side. He could already feel the warmth of blood seeping into the cloth layers beneath the leather. With a slow, deep breath in, he pressed the air back out loosely between tongue and teeth.

Who am I?

He was someone who learned from his mistakes.

Eyes set back on Vasha, he lightly gripped his swordstaff at the ready and nodded to her.

 

[Oryyn Black]

The pummeling of the winds was not a new experience to Corvus, as they actually held a nostalgic and comforting feeling. Mainly because he knew that however much pain he was getting dealt, the other person was fairing worse.

He could have kept going like this for a bit longer, but he eventually noticed the rune rip away, not to mention this had been going on for some time. Corvus liked fighting as much as the next, but overkill seemed useless when not fighting to kill.

He gradually began to let the wind still as he stepped back with his own deep gasp, enjoying the reprieve from the punches. Corvus still kept his spear up defensively, as he did not want to get randomly stabbed, especially right as one of the runes was gone.

"Sorry bout that, forgot about the emotional connection." He said jokingly.

Lumen

 

[Delilah Bryndel]

"You like it? Take it!"

With a grunt, she hurled the hammer back in Delilahs direction, still wreathed in both now-boiling water and the girls violet fire.

The mocking violet stare of Delilah's single eye widened slightly in startlement at the unanticipated sight of the oncoming hammer soaring through the air, before the tiny girl adroitly skipped back and to the side, away from the point of impact. And that was the last that Zinnia saw of her, as the hammer hit the ground like a small makeshift bomb, sending a massive plume of indigo smoke and steam limned in violet flame skyward with a deafening explosion. As the smoke gradually began to thin out, revealing showers of ash and fire that burned even at the very air, there was no sign of the source of the pyromantic carnage in its midst.

"Oh, thanks for that! Real nice of you, really ..." The dry voice had a very faint but unmistakable note of genuine irritation underlying it: an unmistakable achievement to have elicited from Delilah, no matter how slightly she showed it. The younger girl had somehow circled around to Zinnia's immediate left and slightly behind her, and there was now a vaguely murderous edge to the mocking mischief in her single eye as it reflected back the light of the spreading flames around her, her clothing now singed and her hair hanging even more raggedly askew than normal in the wake of the blast. In her hand, the blade of the black stiletto was now fully wreathed in a narrow column of fire lined with slim, lashing violet tongues, transforming the previously short weapon into a much longer and more threatening danger. "... but as it turns out, I kinda like my own toys better!"

Delilah had been circling slowly forward as she spoke, and now she lashed out with the speed of a striking snake, darting her arm and hand forward in a lighting-fast stab into Zinnia's ribs with the flaming tip of the blade, then withdrawing and striking again with a quick twist of the wrist, before pulling back out and gliding back a step in preparation for a reaction. The wounds weren't large, but they went deep—and now, that accursed violet flame was actively beginning to slowly bloom out across the side of Zinnia's armor from the point of impact. If she hadn't been under a time limit before, she was certainly under one now.

 

[Vasha Drurcius]

It wasn't the feeling of impact or the resulting sound of his body hitting the ground that got Vasha to open her eyes. It was the scent of blood.

Pupils dilating, and then contracting, her tongue flickered out for a moment as she puzzled over this development, staring at Maseno. Weren't the runes supposed to prevent injury? Yet, he seemed to accept this without any sense of panic or retribution, and readied himself once more even as she watched crimson slowly blossom on the torn fabric peeking out under his armor. Heard the rush of breath between his teeth.

He was just as used to and resigned to the old ways as she was then.

Vasha's head cocked slightly to one side for a moment, and then her gaze travelled briefly down to the sand between them as the dust settled. Right now, despite the horns and tail, her shadow still looked more man than beast.

"This is the advanced course. That means no more pulling punches, no holds barred. You will be paired off and you will fight as though your opponent intends to end you." Proctor D'Amore's words rang in her ears.

Her eyes travelled back up to Maseno, considering something.

A plume of steam escaping her nostrils, Vasha stabbed her blade point first into the ground, stepping back.

But it was not to yield.

It started with a subtle cracking noise. A slight bend, and shift. Then it rapidly grew far louder and larger in scope. Vasha's body began to change again, her stance widening, and then lowering to all fours.

Smaller scales grew into plate like armor that bristled with spikes. Her skull broadened and lengthened, a second set of horns joining the first as the few vaguely humanoid features left vanished and became entirely beastial. Her tail thickened and coiled outward, the spikes running along her spine to its end flaring like swords.

By the end of it, Maseno was standing entirely encircled by a bone-white Drake close to thirty feet long, her nose almost reaching her tailtip as she stood coiled around the sparring ring.

She could feel the fractures and cracks in her shoulders from the bench earlier widening like a bad itch. The weakness from it spreading and forcing her to keep the bulk of her weight on her hind legs, causing some of the stonework at the edge of the sparring ring to crack. She may not feel the pain from her injuries at the moment, but that did not mean they didn't limit her.

Staring down at Maseno, now having revealed the farthest scope of her current power, Vasha locked eyes with him and bowed her head.

Then lunged, trying to knock him off his feet.

 

[Zinnia]

Dazed. Reeling. About to break. Zinnia had utterly miscalculated her approach, had utterly underestimated the degree of her opponent's magic. There was really only one thing left she could try now, one thing with the potential to save her this humiliating defeat: her absorption.

Zinnia staggered back under the weight of Delilah's blows; the thin blade was finding weak points in her armor, but Zinnia at least had the good sense to cushion what would have been deep stabs with rock in those gaps in her plate mail. She was, however, fully aware that she was being quickly wreathed in violet flame.

The wallflower would shove Delilah away with a forceful bump of her shield, then try to find a moment to focus, to channel the resistance that came with taking the flame into her own body. Then, perhaps after, she could mount a counter attack. All she had to do was absorb the fire, simple as could be, just as she practiced every day with so many elements.

But she couldn't.

Numbness bit at her flesh as the arena's runes nullified the horrible damage she would have been taking. Zinnia cursed silently as she realized her final folly. Whatever these flames were made of she was not accustomed to. She was not skilled enough to make her opponent's weapon her own, not now at least. The purpure blaze that lapped at her skin refused to be taken in by Zinnia's power.

She sank to one knee and placed a palm flat on the ground of the dueling ring.
"...I concede..." She muttered, and in an instant the runes flared brightly, and the fires over the whole ring were extinguished. That horrible tingling lingered in her skin and the edges of her muscles, but Zinnia pulled herself to her feet all the same.

Wordlessly, and thankful that her helmet hid the frustration on her face, Zinnia turned and exited the ring. Her efforts had been worth nothing.

 

[Delilah Bryndel]

The ghastly facsimile of a dry smirk danced across Delilah's flame-limned face as her opponent kneeled down in concession. Her gloating, however, proved uncharacteristically short-lived; for in the instant the flames were snuffed, the tiny girl abruptly went rigid, a faint shudder passing through her body. For the briefest second, as the fires were extinguished, the violet light of her eye went out; the countless cracks on her body went dark, and the barest hint of color filled her porcelain skin.

For but the briefest instant, she almost looked like a tiny, frail, and oddly normal girl.

The stiletto, now empty of the flames that once encircled it, fell from her hand to clatter against the ground with an echoing ring of metal on stone.

And in the instant of that clatter, Delilah once more took in breath; a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. The color once more fled her cheeks, and her single eye flared with violet venom as she spun to fix a withering glare of pure, unadulterated malice on no one in particular. After a moment, the hate-filled glare settled on Proctor Evangeline; then, in an instant, as quickly as the display began, her expression almost ... reset. There was no other word for it; once more, her face had fixed itself in dry disinterest and callous cynicism far beyond what a child her age ought to show, with no sign of the untamed hatred that had been there but a second before.

With no further mind paid to her opponent, the tiny, one-eyed girl leaned down, picked up her weapon, and ambled carelessly away, albeit with a slight limp—even through the protection of the runes and her own deflection, that initial hit from Zinnia's hammer had left its mark.

 

[Lumen]

Her recovery was fast. Even with the winds still pounding her cracked-ribs. She rolled to her feet and unstrapped her shield. Even as it hurt to breath. As fiery-pain ripped up and down her sides. Sword was still gripped in her other hand.

Narrowed-eyes watched the twin carefully. Assessing. Even as the winds died down.

"Good match," she rasped, a slow smile briefly flickering on her lips. "I wasn't lying when I said I'd get you a cup of coffee after this, Corvy," taking a shallow breath, her gaze flickered around the arena. She saw Calvin Calhoun across the way and for a moment he locked eyes with her. A predatory look and a sharp-toothed smile in her direction gone before any of the proctors could notice. Perhaps gone before anyone else noticed.

Had he been able to tamper with the runes?

That bastard.

Lumen turned back to Corvus Azura "But right now I need a medic."

 

[Oryyn Black]

Corvus sighed as it seemed the fight was finally over. His breath seemed to come back to him as the winds died down and he looked around while lightly stretching. Oh yeah, he could feel some bruises coming on.

"I'll remember that promise, and I will get you some booze."

It was the least he could do. Corvus' abilities were those that really did not allow him to win without absolutely beating the crap out of his opponents...no finesse.

He caught Lumen shooting a glare at someone, but he did not turn his head fast enough to see who.

"Yeah, I think I could use a little check-up too."

Lumen

 

[Maseno Luana]

Well that was certainly something else entirely. Knowing and hearing about what Vasha could do was nowhere near as awesome as seeing it in person. Maseno could not help but stare as she transformed and though he should have taken advantage of her weakness during that time, he hadn't. While all the others present were under strict orders to fight to their utmost, Maz had his own strict orders to follow.

He was about to get his ass handed to him by an oversized, prickly gecko and he wasn't too mad about it.

With the entire sparring court taken up by her serpentine bulk, he had nowhere to go when she lunged. Vasha accomplished flattening her opponent to the ground as he threw himself down onto his stomach to avoid a direct impact. Though she ended up stepping on his shoulder in the process and he both heard and felt something pop.

He grunted, rolled to his back beneath the grounded beast.

 

[Vasha Drurcius]

A rumbling hiss came from above as Maseno slipped out from under Vasha's grip, having overshot. Caught in the narrow confines of the ring, the bone drake curled up on herself and reared back, trying to reposition to catch and pin him without killing him. But that was easier said than done.

Head held high, Vasha stared down at Maseno for a long moment. Then, like a fox, she plunged downward, her jaws clenched tightly shut to avoid biting him as she tried to use her armored head to herd him around the ring and into her grasp, her tail curling to pen him in on one side.

Wards or no, she wasn't about to gamble with the fate most experienced if they lived long enough to die by her venom.

 

[Maseno Luana]

When Vasha craned herself about to look down at him, she'd find Maseno staring right back up, the whites wide around his amber irises. Well, this was certainly a position he'd never imagined finding himself in - pinned beneath a dragon. She reared to pounce and Maz let loose a hiccup of painful determination as he quickly rolled over his injured shoulder to avoid falling into her clutches.

Found himself rolled right into the loop of her tail. Cornered on all sides, there was nowhere he could go to escape.

He could ask Zana for forgiveness later, not that he expected any from her.

Lifting the hand of his good arm, he gestured his palm at the beast and with a yell of effort Vasha would feel the invisible tendrils of his powers loop around her. Within moments her oversized, serpentine self lifted from the ground and high into the air. Maseno leaned into the effort to lift such a sizeable object, grunting as he slowly got himself to his feet while also concentrating on holding Vasha aloft.

Standing there beneath her, a decisive frown taking his expression, he gestured to the neighboring empty arena where both Corvus Azura and Lumen had recently finished their own duel. Vasha would feel a sudden powerful tug through the air as she was tossed bodily and with great speed.

 

[Vasha Drurcius]

It was a very strange feeling to suddenly feel her entire body stop moving. As if slammed into and caught in a wrestling match with an equally sized opponent, Vasha's jaws opened in a grunt of surprise before she reared her head back- and then realized her mistake. Maseno's powers fully secured around her body and limbs, Vasha let out a rumbling snarl and thrashed as he lifted her off the ground, the tip of her tail carving a deep line in the sand before she was fully airborne.

He was strong. A lot stronger than she'd expected.

And then she felt a heavy tug and was sent flying sideways. Slamming back first into the sand and dirt of the next arena, her scales and weight parted the soil like a wave before she collided into the stonework around its edge and the path next to it, her momentum rolling her over and up onto the ground outside it before the beast finally slid to a stop on her side.

Twisting her body, the Drake almost unvelievably began to rise onto her feet again, and then reluctantly collapsed with a loud grunt, her flanks heaving for breath.

He'd managed to push her to her limits. Shoulders. Spine. Head. She felt numb all over. Her vision blurred. Concussion. At this range, and with her unable to get up, Maseno had her at his mercy.

A dull, but calm rumble shuddered through the soil as she just laid still and let her body rest. He'd won the match.